About bobvandaniels

This is a picture of my awesome goatee. That's all you need to see to know everything about me, and if you don't get it, go punch yourself in the face. I'm an entrepreneur, owner of Hold onto Your Buds Flower Shop and the new Sausage Fest Restaurant.

People ask me all the time, “Are you a cat or a dog person?” And I always respond, “Do I look like a brain-dead idiot to you? Of course I like cats. Dogs can go kill themselves.” And then I open a beer with my teeth and pour it on top of their heads. Yea, I do that. And yes, I always have a beer in my back pocket for just such an occasion.

Why such an antagonistic, aggressive stance against dogs, you wonder? Well the reason is simple. Cats are awesome. They aren’t just for crazy old ladies and lonely women’s studies grad school students anymore. Cats are for manly, strong, independent men, and my cat could kick your dog’s anus, any day of the week, and he’d do it while napping on your face.

Here’s why.

1- They Can Take Care of Themselves, Dammit

Thanks for coming home and waking me up, idiot.

I’m a busy man. When I leave home for work, and don’t come back for 12-16 hours, my cat doesn’t freak out and start chewing up the furniture while rubbing his butt all over the carpet. When I get home, my cat simply raises his head from his resting position and looks at me as if to say, “oh you stepped out? I didn’t even notice.” And then he goes back to sleep. I don’t have to treat my cat like a pussy.

2- They Don’t Take Your Crap

When my cat does something I don’t like, he doesn’t whimper in a corner with his tail between his legs pissing all over himself for me to forgive him and give him a doggy treat. He fights back. When I pull out the rolled up newspaper, he springs his retractable claws (another awesome attribute that dogs don’t have), arches his back and tells me to “bring it on, fat man.” We fight it out, then hug it out, and I give him a kitty treat out of pure respect, not out of pity.

3 – Cats Purr, Dogs Annoy

My cat purrs when he’s happy, which has been scientifically proven to be the most relaxing, beautiful sound in the world. Your dog? He barks like an idiot and humps something. Nothing relaxing or beautiful about that.

4- You Have to Earn Their Respect

I don’t KNOW you, loser.

When you come over to visit, my cat doesn’t run up and start slobbering all over you while humping your leg. He hides. Why? He doesn’t know you, loser. Why in the world would he lather his affections over someone he’s never met? You know who does that? Dogs, psychos, and slutty whores.

When I first got my cat, he stalked me for three weeks and attacked spontaneously until I had earned his respect and the right to scratch his adorable, soft head. So if he likes you, it’s because you’re literally awesome.

5- Cats Are Always the Correct Size

Dogs that are so small they can’t help but shake all of the time should be put out of their misery and fed to their rat cousins. Dogs that are too big… my cat is tough enough to scare the non-existent nuts off of a Great Dane. Cats are always the right size. Dogs don’t know what the hell is going on with their varying sizes.

6- Cats Know Vomit and Crap is Gross

My cat on vomit: “You see that vomit I made? Yea, you’re going to clean it up. I’m not going to eat it like I didn’t just do something disgusting and putrid. I have self respect.” Well said, cat. Well said. The dog? “Hey, I wonder what this tastes like?”

My cat’s bathroom? A box located in a single location that he returns to every single time he needs to do his business. A dog’s bathroom? Anywhere it gets the urge. The floor, your shoe, your bag, anywhere. And then he’ll sniff it. Maybe if he’s feeling it, he’ll eat it, too. Point: Cats.

You can come out, all of your owners’ valuables are gone now.

7– Cats Actually Kill Things

Some people say cats are essentially useless creatures and that dogs are great for protection. My cat has actually killed a rat before. And a bird that flew into an open window. People who get dogs for protection will be surprised when a prowler breaks in and he runs away with his ears down and pisses in the dryer. And then takes a nap in the space where your TV used to be.

8- When I die, my cat will eat me

When you die, your dog will be all sad and lie next to your body and whimper and be all mopey and crap. Lame. My cat? He’ll actually eat my body for me when I’m gone. That not only takes balls, but it’s your cat’s way of saying, “I win, you lose, you’re now lunch.” It’s like a samurai cutting off the head of a defeated foe he respected on the battlefield. How is that not the best death tribute you could ever have?

But my cat…I once bought him a little santa hat for our annual Christmas card photo. He pulled it off immediately and the next day I found it buried in his little box. Message received, little bro. I’ll never disrespect you like that again. Please accept this empty drinking straw as an apology.

10 –Dogs Stink More When You Clean Them, Cats Clean Themselves

Dogs need to be bathed, and when you try to, they don’t sit still. They jump out of the tub, they whimper, they shake themselves off and get slimy dog juice everywhere, and when you’re done, they smell worse than when you started. Cats clean themselves. And they look freaking adorable when they do it. Checkmate.

I love my freaking cat, so shut your face

I’m a manly man who owns 97 guns, has a goatee that would reverse your grandma’s menopause, and who loves his cat. I’m proud of it. And when that little bugger dies I will cry like a little girl and break all the other tombstones in the pet cemetery out of raw, unbridled grief. And now you know why. Because cats are awesome. When I need to pull a sleigh across the arctic, I’ll give you a call, dogs.

It has become a serious problem, and as both a professional and a gentleman, it needs to stop. These ladies come into work looking all hot and stuff, with their hair smelling like girly shampoo, and their skirts and tight clothing, saying sexy things like, “Good morning, Mr. Van Daniels. Have a good weekend?” Seriously, with these women doing what they do I have no choice but to sexually harass them.

Seriously, is this a place of business or a strip club?

Like one of my favorite comics the late Patrice O’Neal used to say, it’s like making a bear work in an office with salmon drizzled in honey and expecting him not to go crazy. Seriously, ladies, if you come in wearing a low-cut blouse, tying your hair in a bun and wearing glasses like a sexy librarian, you’re forcing me to look you up and down and ask if I can “get some of that.” Or, in my flower shop, if you bend over to pick up the order of exploding tulips that just arrived, you’re basically grabbing my hand and placing it on that fine booty of yours. Mmm!

This needs to stop. I’m a respectable gentleman. I have a gold membership at the Byron City Gentlemen’s Club, I always support the community college’s bikini car wash fund-raiser, and voted for Hilary Clinton in ’08 (even though she’s a crazy liberal and a MAJOR tease).

Stop forcing me to check you out, give you uncomfortable compliments, provide unrequested shoulder rubs, and saying things like “showing a little more leg won’t kill ya.” Stop making me end your sentences for you with phrases like, “That’s what she said,” or “…in bed,” or “…and that’s when I dropped my pants.” As clever as it is, it’s unprofessional.

Stop undressing me with your eyes.

Stop making me bring a pair of random panties to work in the morning and then say to you in front of everyone, “Hey, you left these at my place last night.” Stop making me attend the work Christmas party as “Naked Santa.” And at the end of the workday, stop making me whistle at you and say suggestively “Can I get a ride?”

This can all stop if you just act more professionally and stop dressing all sexy for work, stop bending over to pick things up, stop smiling seductively when you take a customer’s order, and stop undressing me with your eyes. I’m the best boss on the planet. And let’s keep business on the upside. Or whatever position you want. See! You made me do it through the computer. That’s what she said. Ok, I’m done. And that’s when I put my pants back on. Ah! See how big of a problem this is? That’s what she…dang, I’m done. I’m done.

Hi there. I don’t need to introduce myself to you since I’m so awesome that if you don’t already know who I am by now it’s probably because you won first prize in a sucking contest.

Squirrels with machine guns? When I’m Mayor, yes.

I just wanted everyone in the town to know that I’ve rejected Sir Ryan’s proposal to be his Vice Mayor. Why you ask? First, stop asking so many questions, you sound like a freaking idiot. Second, I found out there is no such thing as Vice Mayor. Third, I’m nobody’s sidekick. So I’m running for mayor myself.

Welcome back to your computer, because I can only assume that after reading that last sentence, you got up from your computer and started break dancing and breaking your own windows for joy, or if you didn’t, it’s either because you fainted instead, or because you’re a complete and utter tool who doesn’t think me running for Mayor is the best thing that every happened in your life.

So for those of you who aren’t convinced that me being Mayor would be so cool that you’d grow extra nipples, I’ve compiled a few campaign promises that will make you wet your pants with fire urine.

Why me being Mayor would melt your face off of your face

1- No one will ever have to pay taxes. EVER. Taxes are for pussies and terrorists.2- The postal service will be replaced with attack hawks.3- The librarians at the public library will now be hot. I’m tired of going in there and being disappointed.4- Dynamite will be a legal firework. So will chainsaws.5- River Street will literally be turned into a white water rafting river. Also part of the new public transportation system.6- Hate Monday’s? Me, too. So Monday is now part of the weekend. Suck it, Tuesday.7- The public transit system will be expanded to include skydiving.8- Mandatory Zombie Apocalypse training the last friday of every month.

To serve, protect, and turn your butt hairs grey.

9- Everyone gets a free BMX bike10- Remember that free BMX bike I just gave you? Why don’t you use it in the fire obstacle course I’ll build? Finish the course, you save a school of orphan babies with cancer. Fail, and I dip your balls in acid (if you don’t have balls because you are a woman, and not because your balls have shriveled in my presence, then your punishment will be you’ll have to give me a booty dance…don’t bother asking what that is, I’ll let you know when the time comes).11- “Manscaping” will be illegal. However, this law will be waived for you if you drive a tank, have a really cool face scar, or have knives for fingers.12- Public disputes will be resolved on who can do the most push ups.

Time for prison, loser.

13- The 13th floor of the Byron City hotel will be transformed into a haunted house. Stay there overnight, you get to hit on my girlfriend (spoiler alert: no one will make it more than 30 seconds without fully crapping their pants and clawing their own skin off)14- June 15th will become an official holiday known as Call of Duty Day.15- The bell tower in the middle of town will be struck by a real lightning bolt every hour on the hour.16-The police force will fight crime with jetpacks.17-Stop signs will be changed to “Shut Up” signs, and speed bumps will be changed into speed boosters.18- The speed limit is now infinity. Everywhere.

And that’s just a small sample of the hundreds of ideas I have to change this city. If I showed them all to you, you’d forget how to speak a discernible language and pull your own eyes out. And that’s not what I want. Not for my city.

So when Mayor Chuck gets kicked out and you go to the polls to vote, vote Bob Van Daniels: for a future with some serious balls (yes that is my campaign slogan, so suck it).

Hello to everyone! This is Bob Van Daniels. Many of you know me as the owner of the town’s most awesome, in-your-face flower shop, Hold onto Your Buds, home of the Exploding Tulips, Flaming Roses, and M-80 Daisies. I’ve had a buttload of success since I opened the store ten years ago with nothing but my grandma’s savings and a prayer. Now she drives around on the fastest Hoveround on the planet. Booya!

That’s right, it’s called Sausage Fest. And it’s exactly what it sounds like. Men wearing speedos will be serving you sausages from around the world. It’s the male version of Hooters. And it’s going to be huge.

Some of you might be thinking, “Sausage Fest? That sounds kinda gay.” First, we live in a more enlightened age you homophob, so you better check yourself before you wreck yourself. Second, eating sausages and drinking beer while watching the big game on huge LCD screens in massage recliners is about as non-gay as it gets. Yea, we serve you in massage recliners. I just kicked your paradigm right in the balls.

Hell, yea you can take our orders!

Last, it isn’t just for men! It’s perfect for a girls-night-out, bachelorette parties, baby showers, bat mitzvahs, period parties, and whatever else girls like to celebrate. They’ll enjoy the men with chiseled abs and tight speedos, the men will enjoy the food and games. Everyone wins. Especially me. Because I’m a freaking genius.

So come by tomorrow for the grand opening! First 50 people get a free pitcher of beer! And of course, fireworks and guns are totally permitted.